


around the reckless magic of your mouth

by xxrisque



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 23:54:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2289356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxrisque/pseuds/xxrisque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can explain.”</p><p>“The sofa is <i>floating</i>.”</p><p>“Yes. I can explain.”</p><p>“But the <i>sofa</i> is <i>floating</i>. Sofas don’t float!”</p><p>“Ah. Yes. I lost a sock.”</p><p>{ based on the prompt "warlock!Combeferre and normal!Courfeyrac and Courf walks in on Combeferre creating life or moving the furniture or whatevs" }</p>
            </blockquote>





	around the reckless magic of your mouth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goldfishtobleroneandamitie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldfishtobleroneandamitie/gifts).



“Ferre, I’m home! We finished the case early and-  _what_.”

Courfeyrac drops his bag in the sitting room doorway and stares at his boyfriend.

“I can explain.”

“The sofa is  _floating_.”

“Yes. I can explain.”

“But the  _sofa_ is  _floating_. Sofas don’t float!”

“Ah. Yes. I lost a sock.”

“But-”

“The sofa’s floating? I know.” Combeferre gestures steadily with his free hand and the sofa settles back onto the floor with a gentle thud. “That was me. Sorry.”

“What.  _What?_ ” Courfeyrac gapes at him, stepping carefully into the room and meeting Combeferre’s eyes.

“It’s a magic thing, I should’ve told you. I’m sorry.” Combeferre admits sheepishly, rocking on his feet and tangling a hand in his hair. “I’ve been meaning to, I promise I have, I’ve just not been able to find the right time.”

“Magic?” Courfeyrac asks in disbelief, because he  _knows_  about people who can do magic. They’re few and far between, and those who make themselves known to the public often end up worse for it.

“I know, I’m sorry, I should’ve said sooner, before we got involved. If you want to leave, I understand.” Combeferre turns away awkwardly, hands balling into fists and light crackling around his fingers.

“Why would I leave?” Courfeyrac asks, genuinely confused and a little bit hurt that Combeferre expects that of him, and he’d reach out and grab his hand were it not for the electricity starting to spark around him.

“Because I can be a liability, Courf. Just being around me could get you hurt if I’m not careful, and I can usually control it but I sometimes just  _lose_  myself around you, honestly I’m surprised you haven’t noticed before now-”

“When? Tell me when you’ve lost it before, Ferre.”

“That one date we had where it wouldn’t stop raining and you were sad, then it just suddenly stopped right above our heads? That was me. That time the electricity conveniently went out so we had to eat dinner by candlelight. The first time we had sex and the mirror shattered even though we were nowhere near it. When you sing in the shower in the morning and music appears out of thin air to accompany you.”

“You know, I’m not seeing anything bad here.” Courfeyrac interrupts with a small smile.

“I never said it was bad.” Combeferre just shrugs. “Only that I lose control around you, and that that’s not really safe for you.”

“I don’t see how it’s not safe, personally.” Courfeyrac replies, stepping closer towards his boyfriend and cocking his head. “You’d never hurt me, not even unconsciously. I know that as well as you do, I hope. You could show me what you can do, if that would help calm you. Please.”

“Most of it I just have to think about. I can move things, change things, make things appear if I think hard enough about them. Sometimes I do things by accident, if I’m caught off-guard. I have it mostly under control, though, so it doesn’t happen often.”

“Does Enjolras know?”

“No.”

“Does  _anyone_ know?”

“Only my mother. And you, now.”

“So, if I asked you to move that pile of books over to me, you could?”

Combeferre nods, glancing minutely at the stack in question and raising his hand only slightly, and suddenly they’re shifting slowly through the air and depositing themselves at Courfeyrac’s feet.

“And if I asked for flowers?”

Combeferre looks down at his hands intently and then twists them in a steady circle until he’s formed a bouquet of Courfeyrac’s favourite flowers -gardenias, of course- between his fingers. He tightens his hands around them to ensure their permanence before he presents them to Courfeyrac carefully.

“Is this where all my bouquets come from when you think you’ve upset me? Not that it’s not nice, getting flowers, but you never have upset me, you know.”

“It is, yeah.” Combeferre admits with a small, embarrassed smile. “I don’t trust the flower shops to get them just right, the way you like.”

Courfeyrac beams at him and pushes himself up onto the balls of his feet to kiss Combeferre’s cheek. He plucks a flower from his bouquet and slides it into Combeferre’s hair, just above his ear.

“You know, I don’t mind how magical or how normal you are. I love you.” Courfeyrac smiles earnestly, curving an arm around Combeferre’s waist and pulling him close.

Combeferre smiles in a way that looks almost relieved, and Courfeyrac leans up to kiss him hard. Combeferre makes a surprised noise but kisses him back eagerly nonetheless, sliding his arms around his waist and pressing their bodies together.

That’s about when it starts to snow.

Neither of them notice, at first, until a particularly large flake lands on Courfeyrac’s eyelashes. He blinks until it melts and moves, and then turns to see the room covered in a thin dusting of fluffy white snow.

“Is this you?” He laughs playfully, turning back to Combeferre with a bright smile on his face.

“Yeah, sorry. I guess I must have lost it somewhere after you kissed me.”

“Don’t be sorry, this is amazing!” Courfeyrac grins, dropping his bouquet into the snow and looping his arms around Combeferre’s neck. “I’ve always wanted to kiss in the snow.”

“Well, if you insist.” Combeferre smiles wryly before dipping his head and reconnecting their lips.

It snows in their sitting room until the early hours of the morning, that day.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a [tumblr](http://badlydressedbahorel.tumblr.com)!


End file.
